His Fault
by anth3m
Summary: And so it was his fault that he pushed away the one person he cared for more than life itself, and his fault that he lead him to suicide. Sort of SasuNaru-ish. TW. T for suicide. *Sequel to I've Always Hated Him*


**So I got a few reviews asking to make a sequel, and since what I'm working on currently is going to take a while, I have this. Hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto. I own nothing but the text below.**

Sasuke didn't cry. He didn't bite his lip and screw his eyes shut and clench his jaw so hard that it was close to breaking. When he had heard the big news of the happy blond boy down the street taking his own life, Sasuke did not shed a tear. When he heard that Naruto had a note adressed to Sasuke, using the same goddamn words Sasuke had used about him, he did not feel a heart wrenching pain in his chest. And when he learned that the boy didn't even get a proper burial because he spent all his money (on his friends, nonetheless), Sasuke did not feel an ounce of guilt.

What he felt was _so much worse._

No, Sasuke did not cry, he did not shed a single tear. He bawled in the corner of his room for an hour straight until he felt dizzy and dehydrated because he had no more tears left to shed. He screamed at the top of his lungs and muttered to himself all the things he knew about the blond boy to try to keep him close to him even though he was gone. When he was finished with his violent sobbing, he hung his head between his knees with the picture of him and Naruto on the ferris wheel clutched tightly to his heart.

His heart, Sasuke did not feel that heavy pain on his heart when he saw those four words scribbled on tear-stained paper. He had no heart left to feel. His heart, day by day, was torn bit by bit when he saw the increasing depression on Naruto. When he heard the neverending sirens pass by his house and stop in front of the small house that he knew the blond boy owned alone, his heart stopped completely. By the time the news aired on television Sasuke's heart had shattered into nothing. He didn't have anything left to feel the heart wrenching pain with.

And the guilt, oh God, an ounce of guilt was no where close to how agonizingly guilty he felt. All this was Sasuke's fault. If Sasuke just maned up, if he wasn't such a coward and an idiot, if he had just _accepted his feelings_ then none of this would have happened. In fact, Naruto probably would have been happier than ever, and so would Sasuke. But he _was_ a coward and an idiot and so there he sat inside of Naruto's appartment feeling heavier and heavier by the second because this was **_all Sasuke's fault._**

Everything was his fault, from start to finish. From the moment he walked up to the lonely blond boy sitting by the river to the moment three days ago when he felt his chest constrict because he knew something wrong somewhere. It was his fault that he hugged the blond boy to comfort him, his fault that he fallen so far in love with the deep blue eyes that he couldn't look away, his fault that he saw _that one look _that Naruto had given him when they were 14 when he was trying to sneak a peek at that gorgeous face. After that, it was his fault he became so nervous that he had a plan for when Naruto confessed, his fault that he thought that his plan would work, because it was his fault that he couldn't function properly, and so it was his fault that he pushed away the one person he cared for more than life itself, and his fault that he lead him to suicide.

_Suicide._

Oh God, now he's back at the beginning. Naruto commited suicide, his last message to the world reading that he hated Sasuke. Sasuke remembered saying those words. He remembered how he opened and shut his mouth because he wouldn't say it, but he had to, because he was on the phone with whatsherface and she was part of the plan. He remembered the last time he saw Naruto alive was when he turned to his window after hanging up and saw a bright orange sweatshirt blowing in the wind and the blond's hands wiping away tears as he ran.

The next time he saw Naruto, the blond lay on the ground surrounded by blood; his blue eyes cold, his tan skin pale, and four words scribbled on a piece of paper. _I've always hated him._

And right now, as the raven fell apart surrounded by photos of him and Naruto, Sasuke was sure that he hated himself more.


End file.
